


A Little Bit Of Everything

by averageclawenfangirl



Category: Jurassic World - Fandom
Genre: Clawen, F/M, Fluff, Jealous Claire, Owen Takes Care Of Claire, Protective Owen, Relationship AU, SO MUCH FLUFF, The First Date Went Well, clawen au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averageclawenfangirl/pseuds/averageclawenfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire, Owen, a motorcycle, and their story from the beginning. An AU set in Jurassic World, with no incident and a great first date. It'll all make sense.. Attempting to include every little thing we love about these two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Claire was wearing jeans. Actual, denim jeans. She hopelessly attempted to avoid the stares from her subordinates as she made her way through the ground floor of corporate, heading for the elevators to the Control Room. Claire Dearing meant neat pant suits and modest chiffon skirts. She meant uptight businesswoman. Most of her employees probably thought Claire deemed ‘casual wear’ as something worn by people twenty years or younger._

_But, here she was, black denim pants teamed with a smart white blazer and blouse; however not forgetting her trademark towering Louboutins – blood red sole a reminder she was still the boss. Claire knew what the water-cooler discussion would be today: “It’s her boyfriend. That raptor trainer. He’s done something to her!” Claire couldn’t help the blush creeping into her cheeks, the smile turning the corners of her mouth. Oh, he sure had._

_It had been eight months since Owen Grady had seduced Claire with his charm, arrogance and a bottle of tequila. Later, she’d discover he was passionate, caring, and thoughtful, too. However much their personalities differed, there was a flame they couldn’t put out. The chemistry between them had been nothing short of electric since the day they’d met – he was last off the boat of new recruits, a full ten minutes behind schedule._

“Mr Grady,” Claire wrinkled her nose in the sunlight as he swaggered along the pier, rucksack in hand. “I’m Claire Dearing, Park Operations Manager, and you’re late. I was beginning to wonder whether you’d changed your mind and were planning to head back to the mainland,” she said drily, her tone exceedingly pissed. He shrugged, and smirked – a roll of his broad shoulders and a twinkle of his _(intoxicatingly green, dammit)_ eyes. “Jeez. I’m kinda starting to wish I had, now…” He begun, chuckling heartily, before apparently noting how unimpressed Claire was. “Sorry. I’m Owen, by the way,” he murmured, extending a large, calloused hand in her direction. 

“I know who you are, Mr Grady,” Claire muttered curtly, ignoring his offer to shake. “You’re to report to staff reception for the keys to both your storage and your accommodation. InGen will be contacting you this evening in regards to your work programme. I’ll be expecting progress reports every two weeks…” she trailed off, flipping through his file to see if there was any more information she needed to pass along. “That’ll be all for now,” Claire concluded, lifting her head back in his direction. Owen Grady was staring at her, and she was immediately unnerved by the intensity of his gaze; as though he were examining her, seeing straight through to her soul. “Is there a _problem,_ Mr Grady?!” She enquired haughtily.

He laughed, shifting from foot to foot underneath the Costa Rican sunshine. “No problem at all, _Claire_ ,” he murmured, and she was cut off from her imminent outburst by another smattering of laughter. “It’s just been a mighty long time since I’ve seen a woman as beautiful as yourself. Would you ever consider accompanying me to dinner one evening?” he asked, tone as innocent as a choirboy. Claire could feel the rage pulsating within her – _the audacity of this man! Just who did he think he was - some kind of flyboy Romeo who thought he could get her into bed just like that?!_

“Mr Grady, you must have been under water for a very long time. The sooner you realise how to speak to women properly, the better. Also: I am your boss, and I don’t mix work with pleasure – certainly not for the likes of _you,_ ” Claire spoke sternly, expecting him to quiver in his boots like the rest of the sleazeball guys on the island who’d tried their luck with her.  Owen shrugged, again, his sensual eyes glinting from his tanned, weathered face. “I’m just saying. You should give me a chance,” he said as he made a move to walk past her. Claire attempted to sidestep him, but he leant in close to her ear. “I’ll have you eating your words,” he muttered, and she recoiled almost instantly, shivering from his contact. His laughter filled the air as she was left bereft on the dock; wondering what the hell had just happened, and hating herself for smiling at the notion she could never back down from a challenge.

Claire wasn’t a pushover, though. She made Owen work for it… _Or had it been the other way around?_ He never turned his reports in on time, leaving her seething with anger and resorting to travelling out to his godforsaken bungalow at least twice a month. They argued like nobody’s business – the far-flung location of his home making it the perfect location for a rant at just how unprofessional he was being. Until, he made a deal with her.

“I’ll give you your damned reports on time, in person, if you agree to just _one_ date with me,” Owen requested softly, one Friday evening almost six months into his employment, holding up his forefinger as he strolled over to Claire on the perilous decking of his bungalow. She rolled her eyes in earnest. “Mr Grady, how many times do I have to tell you? It would be wholly unprofessional… _Unethical,_ even… For us to consider…” Claire bit her lip in anticipation, hating herself for feeling flustered as Owen edged ever-closer, eyebrows raised.

Yes, Owen was gorgeous. Especially in the setting sun, streaks of light framing his toned silhouette wonderfully in that Henley he always wore. Yes, he’d made her laugh on more than one occasion – leaving a plush raptor from the gift shop on the desk when he (somehow) knew it was her birthday, having her favourite iced Starbucks cooler ready for her when she visited the compound – but he was still a pain in the ass. _Right?_ “Why, Claire? Why – Are you worried about what other people think?” He asked, genuinely interested in her reason for so often turning him down. Claire knew if she really, truly wasn’t interested; Owen would leave her alone. It was like he was inside her head. He knew there was something there, blooming away quietly.

“Owen,” Claire began with a sigh, until she was interrupted by the man himself. “Ha! There it is,” He laughed triumphantly at her use of his first name, winking in a way that made Claire’s stomach do somersaults. She shook her head, and looked down towards the ground, unable to stop the smile ghosting across her face. At this, Owen seemed to take pity on her. “Look, I’ll hand in my reports a day early – _a whole 24 hours before_ – if you let me take you out for one damned evening,” He said, his arm outstretched, fingers tenderly grasping her chin to meet his gaze.

Claire no longer flinched at his touch, for it was always there whenever Owen seeked an audience with her. Whether he was pestering her at corporate _(miraculously without his reports)_ – holding the doors open for her, one hand on the small of her back as he gestured her through first. Or at the raptor compound – offering his hand to grip onto so she could make the unstable climb up the enclosure steps in her heels. The latter, she wanted to decline. Claire didn’t need Owen’s help… She just liked the feeling of her hand innocently in his, even just for a moment. It confused and intrigued her in equal measure.

It was this thought that pushed her over the edge – though she wouldn’t admit that to Owen. Claire smiled, narrowing her eyes in the blood-red light of the sunset. “ _One_ date, Mr Grady. You can pick me up at 7 tomorrow from my apartment. I’ll text you my address then,” She murmured, running a hand self-consciously through her bobbed hair. Both pairs of green eyes stared into the others for a moment, the tension almost as thick as the air between them. Claire knew all about men like Owen Grady.

Impossibly virile and spur of the moment. The way he was looking at her – she could tell he wanted to kiss her, pin her against the wall of his ramshackle home. And she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d be able to stop him. Claire broke the spell, shattered the moment. She didn’t want to walk before she could run; she didn’t want to allow him two victories in one evening. Claire did things her own way, and Owen could damned well keep up if he wanted to. She looked away, and clambered down the steps of the bungalow. “Wait, so… _Ms Dearing,_ this means I get your cell number?!” Claire heard him call out behind her, tone laced with laughter. She replied without even turning, without breaking her stride, partially so he couldn’t see the grin emerging on her face. “Yes, Owen. It does.”

Claire couldn’t remember ever feeling so anxious before a date. _You’re not 15, woman,_ she told herself as she smoothed her dress down in the reflection. Claire had chosen a white, haltered number, her hair slightly curled; bouncing off her shoulders, as opposed to the straight curtain she usually wore it in. She’d made her eyes dark and her lips fire-engine red.  She was dressed to impress, and hated herself for it. The buzzer on her phone sounded – she fetched her jacket and purse and left to meet Owen in the lobby. His jaw visibly dropped when he made eye contact with her, and he scrubbed his face nervously with a paw-like hand. “Jesus, Claire. You look _stunning_ ,” He said, voice hoarse as he cleared his throat.

The compliments flowed as they made their way towards the restaurant – a seafood bar right at the edge of the Jurassic World resort.  But, she bemoaned his choice of board shorts, and he was quick to snipe at her use of an actual itinerary for their evening. Soon enough, both of them were heartily tucking into oysters, Claire trying and failing not to laugh at Owen’s suggestion of them being an aphrodisiac. He leant back in his chair and surveyed her carefully, the lush forest of his eyes ever observing. “So, tell me about your childhood. What made a young Claire Dearing into the woman she is today?” He asked, and Claire told him, as easily as someone she’d known for years.

Claire told Owen about her upbringing in Madison; just her, her mom and Karen. She’d never met her father, and didn’t feel as though she needed to. Her mom worked two jobs to support Claire and Karen, and as a result, Claire had ended up graduating Harvard with a one-way ticket to Masrani Global. She had two nephews – whom she loved, but didn’t know how to handle. “I’m not even sure if I have any kind of maternal instinct to speak of –“she began, laughing sadly, before she stopped herself with a paralysing thought of revealing too much. Owen smiled, his eyes full of warmth. “This is gonna sound corny as hell… But, Claire, I think you could do anything you put your mind to,” he murmured, and Claire was momentarily lost for words as their meals arrived.

Over her sea-bass and his tuna steak, Owen regaled the story of his life to Claire. He’d grown up in California, the standard two-parent, two-kid family. His older brother Clarke was always the smarter, popular kid – Owen being accused of having an obsession with animals that ‘wouldn’t amount to anything, career-wise’ as he put it. “You can imagine the look on mom and dad’s faces when I told them what I do now. They still haven’t met the raptors,” he told Claire with a grin that made her heart melt. His parents opted to send him to the navy, and Owen was more than happy to go. “I was into wrestling as a kid, so I was in pretty good shape. My time in the navy only improved it,” he winked, and Claire rolled her eyes with laughter.

They left the restaurant hand-in-hand, something that Claire had only allowed due to the fact the sky was darkening and she’d had three glasses of wine. Well, that’s what she told Owen. A thrill skipped sweetly through her as his large hand clasped her own. Owen had done away with Claire’s ordered plans for their evening – not that she’d put up much of a fight about it. Months of battling with him over almost everything had left her a little mentally exhausted. And Claire was enjoying herself – truly having fun for the first time since she’d come to Isla Nublar. The fact that Owen was the cause was something she didn’t know how to deal with. He made her feel comfortable, relaxed – a whole different world from her day-to-day hectic schedule followed by nothing but going home to an empty apartment and her own company. 

They walked the coastal path to a quiet bar Owen frequented with Barry most weekends. “They make the meanest Tequila Sunrise,” he smirked, hand snaking round her waist to squeeze her slightly, alcohol causing them both to be bolder. “Oh, no. Absolutely not. I do not do tequila!” She argued, “Every single diet I’ve ever tried – including the one I’m currently on – does not allow for that sort of thing,” Claire giggled. Owen stopped them both, hands smoothing down Claire’s upper arms as he observed her with a stern expression.

“Diet?! Are you _crazy?_ You’re one of the most perfect women I’ve ever seen,” he began to argue, until Claire pressed a finger to his lips. “Oh, stop it. You can’t win me over just by telling me I’m beautiful. Is that all there is?” She questioned, eyebrows raised as she turned and began to walk away. “No – Claire – _Wait_ …” Owen pleaded, and she allowed him to loop his arm through hers again. As their journey continued, Owen told her candidly about the horrors he’d seen during his deployment, and how his raptor pack had been the most wonderful distraction. He spoke about them like a proud parent, and Claire was truly fascinated by the passion and knowledge he possessed. InGen had told her he was good, and now Claire could see for herself. In return, she told Owen about her life at Jurassic World – the improvements she’d made to the board, the amount she’d increased profit by… The fact all employees thought she was an ice queen, and how she didn’t really mind that.

After many exquisite cocktails, Owen purchased a whole bottle of tequila, and set about pouring them both shot after shot in their secluded booth in the corner of the bar. It wasn’t a ridiculously busy evening – full of park guests, who weren’t bound to recognise either of them. “You know, they only think you’re an ice queen because you make yourself that way. I’ve seen a whole different side to you tonight – but, I suppose, I always knew it was there,” Owen smirked, sinking back another tumbler of the spirit without a wince. “You’re so damn _arrogant,_ ” Claire countered, narrowing her eyes as she poured another for him. “How do you know I don’t mind being seen that way? I encourage keeping a distance between myself and employees,” she said.

Owen tilted his head, interest clearly piqued. “You wouldn’t be here with me tonight, otherwise. I know it’s hard for you to let someone in – God, trying to get a date with you was like trying to get blood out of a stone. I’m just saying: you don’t have to be so damned hard on yourself all the time. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, and you deserve to indulge yourself in the finer things in life,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave as he inched closer to her on the bench. “What, you mean, like _you_?” Claire feigned outrage, her eyes drawn to his lips as he leaned in to kiss her.

She should’ve slapped him, really. But she was struck dumb by the tenderness of his embrace, the way he gently wove his fingers into her hair as the kiss deepened: something she was allowing. Her arms reached out to circle his neck, drawing Owen ever closer to her. Claire couldn’t help it; it felt _so good_ to be lost in the moment, to live spontaneously just for a little while – until she felt the tequila making a surprise return. She broke away from him instantly. “Oh – _shit,_ ” she managed to moan, before she was horribly sick on the leather bench beside her. Owen sprang to action; grasping the empty fishbowl they’d been drinking from an hour earlier and handing it to her, holding her hair away from her face with one hand and rubbing smooth circles on her back with the other. “Well,” he said, and she could feel him shaking with laughter, “that’s not the _best_ reaction I’ve ever gotten from a girl.” Claire retched again. “You’re a bastard,” she mumbled weakly.

Claire woke the next morning with a raging headache to see a glass of orange juice and some tablets on her side table, and a man stretched out on the ottoman at the end of her bed, blanket thrown haphazardly over his sleeping form. She smiled weakly. _Owen Grady: badass raptor trainer, cocky ex-military man and a gentle nurse._ He’d walked her home after the incident in the bar, picking her up in a fireman’s lift as they stood in the elevator to her apartment. “I’m just gonna make sure you don’t choke to death on your own vomit, and then I’ll be gone,” he’d murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as the world span before her eyes. “It’s fine, really. You can stay,” Claire had mumbled, embarrassed beyond belief.

Owen had indeed stayed with Claire whilst she’d thrown up time and time again in her bathroom, tears streaming down her face in frustration. “I’m sorry – I _hate_ that you have to see me like this,” she’d moaned quietly, as he’d carded his fingers through her hair and wrapped a blanket round her shoulders. Even at the late hour; once she’d vomited for the last time, Owen had ran her a bubble bath, and sat on the other side of the door, and told her stories about everything from his high school days to times when the raptors were just babies. He’d passed through her night shirt, and she allowed him to use her toothbrush.

It had felt so incredibly intimate: Claire had felt beyond sorry for herself, alcohol getting the better of her for the first time in years, leaving her almost helpless. Owen had carefully dried her hair for her – something he seemed to be incredibly good at, and she’d noted it as something to ask him about in the future. He’d made her drink plenty of water, and saw that Claire was comfortable in bed before settling himself at the bottom. “Thankyou, _Mr Grady_ ,” Claire had whispered into the darkness. She had known he would be smiling too.

“Hey, Owen,” Claire shook his shoulder after creeping down to his resting place. “Mmm?” came his muffled reply, as he turned to lie on his back. “Fancy getting breakfast?” She asked, unusually nervous. Her initial thought, when he’d flirted with her on that dock all those months ago, was that Owen was just another man who was set out to make a mockery of her in the workplace. To try and diminish her position, call her a cold bitch when she didn’t give him what she wanted. Yes, he drove Claire insane, and yes, they would argue until the cows came home. _But he never gave up on her._ Owen wanted Claire exactly how she was, a novel concept to her. He wanted to know about her, he seemed almost in awe of all she had achieved. Owen had sat transfixed at the dinner table; listening to how she’d climbed the ladder at Masrani and aced every test at school. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable, and was still there in the morning, sleeping crooked at the foot of her bed, watching over her. “Yeah, that would be awesome,” he smiled, and Claire just couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss him.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Badass Claire ahead.

_Claire exited the elevator with something of a smile on her face, as she reminisced over the memories of how she and Owen had come to be together. She stood between Vivian and Lowery’s desks with a slight wolf-whistle emitting from the latter. Claire’s head turned to survey him with pointed interest, the steel in her eyes apparently clear to see._

_Lowery shrank back in his chair, muttering to himself as he quailed in her line of sight. “Sorry, Claire.. Just, you know. Nice pants, is all. Casual is a good look for you,” he offered. Claire rolled her eyes as she sipped her Starbucks eloquently. “Thanks, Lowery. The next time I need style advice, I’ll head straight on over,” she replied, tone still icy, yet she couldn’t help but take pity on him. Claire’s nose wrinkled in humour as she tried not to laugh._

_Vivian laughed, and added: “You really do look great, Claire. Sort of, like, glowing.” Claire shrugged her shoulders slightly, not used to compliments from people she’d only recently referred to as friends rather than colleagues. Another of Owen’s influences. A wan smile crossed her face, still unsure of her outfit. “You really think so?” Claire asked softly. “Totally,” Lowery interjected before Vivian could speak. Claire shook her head fondly at the both of them before making her way towards her office, just down the hall._

_“Oh - Vivian - I’ll need to extend my parking allowance for this evening. I’m not taking the Audi home with me,” Claire called out across the Control Room. “Boyfriend taking you out on that bike again?” Came a leering voice from the darkened recesses of the room. Hoskins. Claire’s face glazed over as a forced smile stretched tight across it. “Mr Hoskins. You’re early, and what I do in my spare time is of no great concern to you,” she said softly, and beckoned him to follow her._

_Claire could almost feel his eyes trained on her behind as his footfalls echoed in the silence around him, cringing at the thought and despairing the fact she even had to spend two minutes in his company. She showed Hoskins into her office; and he proceeded to fiddle around with items on her desk, taking a particular fancy to the only frame amongst the paperweights._

_“Cute,” he murmured, though Claire knew he thought it was anything but. “Although, you know, you could do a lot better. Fine woman like you.. You deserve to be taken out to all the best places. I could treat you to a lot more than that,” Hoskins said indignantly, nodding his head again toward the photo frame Claire was straightening back on her desk. She had to stop herself from either laughing or spitting spoken venom in his face._

_“I’m sure you could, Mr Hoskins. But that’s not what we’re here to discuss, is it? Why don’t we get down to business?” Claire said, with an air of wanting the meeting finished already. She bit her lip to stop herself smiling at the photo Hoskins had clearly taken such a shine to._

_She and Owen had taken a spontaneous holiday to San Francisco a few months into their relationship. It was only a weekend - three shining, golden days away from responsibility. They’d gotten beers and ice cream and sat at the Golden Gate Bridge viewpoint. It was pure, unadulterated bliss; until Owen had pushed her headfirst into the vanilla cone. She’d done the same to him - and the resulting photo was too good not to immortalise on her desk._

_Claire was leaning into him, eyes closed with laughter, slivers of the ice cream decorated around her nose as she held her cone triumphantly with one hand. Owen was attempting to kiss - and tickle her - simultaneously as his arm wound round her shoulders, stubble dotted, too, with the forgotten dessert._

_Years from now - and that was how she was happy to phrase it, for Claire truly couldn’t see her future without him (a frightening thought) - she was certain Owen would tell their children that everything was just peachy after that breakfast date. She’d roll her eyes, and smack him lightly on the chest - for that hadn’t been the case at all._

Owen reached for her hand as they left the pancake house situated on Main Street. Claire froze on instinct, and Owen held his hands up in surrender; a pained expression crossing his features. As much as Claire would gladly have taken his hand - it was too much, too fast. _Even that._ Though her belly was full, and she felt happy in every corner of herself, the sun smiling down at the both of them, surrounded by gleeful families - it wouldn’t do to have a staff member see the Park Operations Manager merrily skipping along holding the hand of the animal behaviourist. 

“Owen, it’s just - I -” Claire faltered, falling at the first hurdle of explanation, twisting her hands around nervously. He captured them both in his own large, paw-like hands. “It’s cool, Claire. I get it. At the risk of sounding like the biggest cheeseball known to man, I’ll just say this,” Owen laughed, smirking at his own confessional tone. “I’ll wait. I don’t wanna push it. I’m here for whenever you want _this,_ ” he murmured, gesturing vaguely to himself and to her, “To become whatever it is you want it to be. Because, man, I mean -” 

It occurred to Claire that she’d always wonder what Owen was going to say next. She hadn’t let him finish. _Fuck it. Fuck corporate. Fuck them all._ Claire had almost launched herself in his direction, closing the gap between them and capturing his lips with her own. Claire had brought him down to her height - a mammoth task - and Owen was leant over her; winding his hand in the back of her hair, the other sliding around her waist. 

_Okay. So maybe that had been the case after all. But to say everything was peachy - hunky dory, plain sailing. Now that, that would definitely be a lie.._

Rita had arrived on Isla Nublar two weeks ago, fresh from college to become an intern at the raptor compound. She was beyond sweet; and the fact she had gorgeous, long honey-blonde hair, a cheerleader’s body and was ten years younger than Claire shouldn’t have upset her. But it did. 

Claire would never say she was jealous. Just.. Territorial. She had to be - existing in the man’s world of corporate business. It’d worked out quite well for her in the past. Claire wasn’t spoiled, nor bratty; but what was hers, was hers. _Including a certain heartbreaker of a raptor trainer._

Claire herself had to introduce Rita and Owen, being Park Operations Manager. He took Rita under his wing right away, and Owen’s reports began to turn up on time, for once. Rita had delivered a batch one afternoon, smile on her face and parting comment of: “Sorry it’s me instead of Owen. You know what he’s like!” It set Claire’s teeth on edge, however much she tried to ignore it. _Yes, I certainly do._

Claire felt something in her snap that evening; as she’d descend the steps of the Creation Lab and spotted Rita and Owen in the crowds, swamped by visiting families. They were laughing, Owen’s hand resting lightly on her shoulder as she rolled her eyes at something he was saying. She didn’t hate the woman. Claire had nothing to base any sort of allegation on. But, she thought she could trust Owen. She thought he liked her.. _Loved her,_ even, although they hadn’t gotten round to saying it yet. To think that the man who was slowly becoming her sun and stars had perhaps gotten _bored_ of her.. It hurt. 

“Owen? You ready to leave?” Claire murmured through clenched teeth, interrupting what was clearly a funny anecdote that had left both him and Rita in stitches of laughter. “Oh, yeah, honey; of course,” Owen said, winding an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Rita smiled enthusiastically at them both, and Claire was torn by her feelings. _Why did she seem so genuine?_

“Hey, Claire, I really liked your memo regarding the new marketing strategies, by the way. I definitely think the tablets are an idea Masrani have been neglecting,” Rita burbled, grin still set in place. “Yeah, she’s a damn genius alright. This place doesn’t deserve her,” Owen agreed, squeezing Claire’s hip lovingly. Claire was beyond confused. _What the hell is happening here? Have I read it all wrong?_

“Thanks, Rita. It’s really sweet of you to say. I’ll pass your comments along to the board,” she said, her tone helplessly clipped. “We should really get going now, our reservations are for six,” Claire murmured into Owen’s shoulder as she turned into him. “That’s cool. I gotta run, anyway. Hey - wish me luck!” Rita giggled, running a hand down Owen’s bicep. Claire balked. _What the fuck?!_

“You know I’m rooting for ya,” Owen laughed with a wink. Okay, I’m definitely not wrong, Claire thought as Rita bounced away from them both, golden hair shining in the dying sun. Claire spun on her Blahniks and wrenched herself from Owen’s side, leaving her boyfriend bewildered in the sea of tourists. 

// “You like her, don’t you?! _You like her!_ Why won’t you just admit it?!” Claire hurtled through Owen’s bungalow like a hurricane, hands thrown skywards in despair. Owen followed soon behind, unsure of how to deal with his girlfriend when she seemed almost uncontrollable. “Claire, baby,” he began, his voice unmistakably pleading. “Don’t you ‘baby’ me, Grady!” Claire half-yelled, whirling around with a finger raised reprovingly. 

Owen caught Claire’s outstretched hand and clasped it to his chest, a smile emerging slowly across his features. Claire resisted the urge to cry, scream, hit him - or all three. She could feel the subdued sob strangled in her throat as she spoke. “Are you _laughing_ at me, Owen? Do you really think this is _funny?_ I’ve just stood and watched as a member of staff - _my_ employee and _your_ assistant - blatantly flirted her perky ass off with you right in front of me! If you wanted to break this off, Owen, there were many nicer -” 

Claire’s sentence was drowned by Owen pulling her flush against him and kissing her deeply. She sighed as her hands found his shoulders. “I just - I really like you, Owen -” Claire began to argue again, voice wobbling with emotion. “Claire. Eyes on me,” he said sternly, lifting her chin from where it had been aimed to the floor. 

“Rita is a great girl. I’ll never deny that. But, honey, you’re the only woman I want. Besides, Rita was asking me for tips,” he murmured, smirking as he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, looking _stupidly gorgeous._ Claire was angry and startled - angered by the compliment and startled by Owen’s admission about her. 

“Tips? Tips.. About what?” Claire breathed, unsure if she even wanted to know the answer. “She wanted to ask Zara out. Like, on a date. I naturally told her she’s engaged, and pushed her in the direction of the blonde who operates the Gyrosphere Monday through Friday,” Owen began to shake a little with laughter, whilst Claire felt almost as though all oxygen had deserted her lungs. 

“So, you really like me, huh? I guess I could grow to kinda like you, too” Owen chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows comically as he reached for her. Claire exhaled deeply, hating the unusual emotion of feeling like a total fool. “Okay. First off: I’m sorry. Second of all: you’re an asshole,” she laughed as she stood on her toes to kiss him. 

_“So, I guess that wraps everything up. In case there was anything else you’d like to add?” Claire asked politely, as Hoskins picked his teeth and stared out the window. “No, no, I’m just about done,” he replied, and Claire hoped her sigh of relief wasn’t too visible._

_“Although,” Hoskins murmured, leaning back into the chair with a leering sneer, “in a couple month’s time, I’m putting in another application for those raptors.” Claire stiffened, fingers pausing over the paperwork she’d been sorting. She glanced up at Hoskins, eyes narrowed and alight with malice._

_“We’ve discussed this many times. Although the velociraptor programme falls under InGen’s banner; those animals belong to Jurassic World by right,” Claire argued. Hoskins rolled his eyes and snorted at her expense. “Just because your boyfriend made himself their mama doesn’t mean he owns them. That man’s got too many workplace privileges,” he laughed, ogling Claire with no shame whatsoever._

_It was Claire’s turn to laugh. “Victor, you seem to have made the grave mistake of underestimating me. For the last time: my relationship with Owen has nothing to do with this. I’ll protect those velociraptors from whatever idiotic regime you have planned even if it’s the last damned thing I do on this island,” she paused, Hoskins sitting up in his chair slowly with shock._

_“Which,” she muttered, “I can assure you: it won’t be. This meeting has overrun by ten minutes, I have a schedule that you’re not worth ruining. You know where the door is,” Claire said, not bothering to look up from her itinerary. He wasn’t worth another damn breath._

_He left without another word - at least, not any word she could hear. Hoskins was muttering intelligibly under his breath, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. Claire was beyond tired of the lecherous man trying to belittle her in the workplace. Claire had worked her ass off to get where she was, and she wasn’t about to be crushed by a pervert who thought he could win through intimidation._

_She shuddered at the thought of InGen ever attempting to remove the velociraptors from Owen’s care. They were his lifeblood; his greatest achievement. “Besides bagging a date with you…” He’d admitted one evening, smirk in place, and she’d heartily agreed._

_Owen had opened Claire’s eyes to many things during their relationship, the most prevalent being the change in her view of the animals at the park. No longer were they assets; there for profit and made in a test tube. They were living, breathing dinosaurs - and he’d brought the magic of that back to her._

_Claire knew in her heart that Hoskins’ campaign was relentless, and it scared her, no matter what bravado she gave off when he was in front of her. The last time he’d attempted to interfere with both her and the raptors, Owen had been less than amused…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An end to the all-out fluff fest. Contains more badass Claire, and protective Owen.. Because why not, right?

_Claire was sipping on her iced-latte, working through her lunch break – a habit Owen was relentlessly trying to break – when a text message from the man himself came through. It was a photo of him in the motorcycle helmet they’d brought for her, with the visor flipped up and his eyebrows raised in a goofy way. The accompanying message: “Can’t wait to test this baby out later! I love you.” Claire felt a smile creep across her face: he was such a dork._

_However, the meeting with Hoskins loomed in the back of her mind like a storm cloud rolling in from the ocean. She’d have to tell Owen that the damn man had brought the issue of militarising the raptors yet again and – despite her comments earlier – it had more and more chance of happening, thanks to InGen’s growing stronghold on the island. Sighing heavily, Claire thought back to the last time Hoskins had tried to cross her and take the raptors for himself._

Claire’s phone buzzed on her desk, and out of the corner of her eye; she could see Barry’s caller ID flashing on the screen. “So, that will be all until we meet next week to discuss renovations to the T-Rex enclosure,” Claire addressed the twelve members of staff in front of her, dismissing the daily briefing. General chatter filled the air as her subordinates filed out of the room, and Claire hastily rushed to answer her phone. Barry never called her, unless it was an emergency.

“Barry?” She breathed. “Claire. We have, uh, a situation. I think you’ll want to get over here,” Barry’s hushed tone echoed down the line. “Is everything okay? Owen’s not due back until this afternoon…” She trailed off quietly, chewing her lip. Her boyfriend was visiting a zoo on the Costa Rican mainland with a few other members of staff from the velociraptor unit, a week-long educational ordered by InGen that Claire had privately dubbed as pointless.

“It’s Victor Hoskins. He’s here with a whole crew of InGen military, said he’s had special clearance to remove the raptors via tranquiliser and take them to another location,” Barry almost spat down the phone, his usual calm demeanour evaporating thanks to a threat to his raptors. Claire’s heartbeat accelerated, nerves thrumming against her chest.

“Okay. Stay put. I’m on my way,” Claire chewed her lip as she hung up the call, fingers twisting over one another in anxiety for a moment before adrenalin cut through. _Owen’s raptors. His babies. That fucking asshat Hoskins sent him away for this very reason._ “Zara!” Claire called as she swung her white blazer about her shoulders. “Cancel the rest of my meetings for today, and get Lowery on my car cell. Please,” she added, noting the startled look on her assistant’s face.

Ten minutes later; Claire was thundering past the Cretaceous Cruise in her Audi, talking spit-fire technicalities with Lowery over the speakerphone. “No, Claire, technically he can’t do that, without clearance from Masrani’s executive board,” he deliberated, before adding: “Which I’m sure would’ve been passed down to you at some point.” Claire slammed her hands against the wheel. “Son of a _bitch_! So he’s lying?”

“It’s tough to call. Just get there and stall him for as long as you can, and I’ll get through to the board and hopefully Simon himself, and we can see what’s really going on here. Hold tight, Claire,” Lowery murmured before clicking off. _Stall Hoskins, and around 30 members of the military. Piece of cake, right?_ Claire moaned internally at the abysmal situation in front of her. The thought of Owen gave her courage, and she squeezed the pedal a little more.

Barry greeted her as she parked, rifle slung over his shoulder. Claire clutched her cell in her hand as she ordered him to fill her in on what had been happening. Hoskins was indeed situated outside the compound with nearly thirty members of InGen’s military taskforce. He’d agreed to Barry’s request to wait until Claire arrived before he made any move. “Claire,” Barry urged before they turned the corner. “He was _smiling_ , laughing. It sounds like he wants a fight,” he murmured, the nerves ringing true in his voice.

A tight smile emerged across Claire’s features. “Great,” she said, sounding a lot more confident than she felt. “I do too.” A few more steps in her Blahniks led her to be face to face with Victor Hoskins himself, hands on his hips with a leering smirk under the midday sun. “Well, well, well. _Ms. Dearing_ … I told you this would happen eventually. You shouldn’t have tried to fight me,” he said, crossing his arms over one another and edging closer to her.

“I need to see some form of written approval before you attempt to move these animals anywhere, Hoskins,” Claire spoke flatly, her intent clear to anyone. Though she was stood there in a pristine white Chanel suit and beige Manolos, the men around her felt small enough to crush under one heel. “I find it rather funny, don’t you, Victor, that you didn’t have big enough _balls_ to do this until Owen was safely out of the way,” she added, hardly believing her own audacity.

The remaining members of the velociraptor unit sniggered and guffawed at Hoskins’ expense. The man himself was slowly turning puce with embarrassment, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching furiously. “Just who do you think you are, lady?!” He half-yelled and Claire felt herself bristle under his glare. “You know _exactly_ who I am. I’m Claire Dearing, I’ve been head of operations at this park for seven years, and I’m not about to be out-smarted by a gross little man like you,” Claire said, voice ringing out in the silence of the men around her.

Hoskins’ eyes flashed with pure blue murder, and he cracked his knuckles ferociously. “I swear to _god,_ someone needs to teach you a damn lesson…” He began, words falling like knives from his mouth as he made a move towards her. _No matter. She was ready._ Suddenly, Hoskins was twisted by the shoulders and thrown backwards by what Claire could only assume was one hell of a punch to the face.

As he fell to the floor; in his place stood Owen, his chest heaving with the implications of what he’d just done. _“Asshole!“_ he shouted, looking ready to give Hoskins more of what was flowing through him, before he was restrained by Barry and another guy from their team. “Owen,” Barry was murmuring into his ear. “He’s not worth it, man. He’s not worth it,” he tried to convince him, though Owen’s eyes still wouldn’t leave Hoskins’ temporarily unconscious form, slumped on the floor in front of them.

Claire neatly sidestepped his frame, and came to stand in front of Owen, hands sliding into his hair as she held his gaze intently. Two pairs of green eyes threaded with the same emotion. “Owen,” she spoke calmly, a lot more than she felt in the moment. “Listen to me. I’ve got this, okay? They’re not going anywhere,” Claire nodded her head towards the raptors, who were screeching and clawing at the bars of their enclosure; all four of them riled up by the presence of their angry Alpha. “You’ve done enough. Calm down. I don’t want you fired,” she murmured, her tone almost turning into a plea.

It was the emotion in her voice, perhaps, that caused Owen to see reason. Hoskins had come to, and was being helped up by his staff. Owen searched Claire’s face for something she couldn’t quite work out, his thumb coming to rest tenderly on his bottom lip. He chuckled, a little sadly. “You’re so badass,” he murmured. “I just didn’t want that pig touching you,” Owen sighed, nodding to the man behind her. Claire smiled, squeezing his shoulders with affection. “I know.”

Claire turned to face the music, Owen and Barry stood behind her. Hoskins was whispering animatedly with his staff, nursing a cut lip. Claire’s phone buzzed in her hand. “ _Lowery,_ ” she breathed, eager for ammunition. “Claire. InGen authorised the removal without contacting Masrani Global, at all. Any warrant they have is invalid – that comes directly from Simon himself,” Lowery said excitedly.

Claire pressed the speakerphone button. “Lowery, could you repeat that for our friends from InGen, please?” He did, and Hoskins cursed and threw his hands skywards as Claire ended the call, Owen’s hand on her shoulder. “You two think you’re so _invincible_ , don’t you? You wait and see, Grady. I’m gonna get your ass fired, and those raptors will be ours to do with as we see fit,” Hoskins argued, blood continuing to pour from his split lip.

Owen opened his mouth to argue, but Claire pushed him back, turning away from Hoskins and placing her hands on her boyfriend’s chest. “Owen,” she said softly. “Not worth it.” Owen swallowed his retort, instead resorting to throwing Hoskins a glare of purest acid. He shrugged Claire’s hands off, and went headed into the examination area of the compound.

Claire turned back to Hoskins, and the rest of the InGen team. “I suggest you leave,” she said quietly. “Oh, _we are_. But we’ll be back soon enough,” Hoskins smirked, swaggering off towards his jeep. Claire rolled her eyes in distaste at Barry, who shrugged sympathetically. “Every bridge, Claire,” he murmured, and Claire couldn’t help but smile.

Owen was observing Blue as she clawed the ground through the bars of the compound, arms folded and expression nonchalant. Claire timidly approached Owen, sliding her arms around him from behind and pressing the side of her face to the expanse of his muscled back; rattled nerves soothed by the steady murmur of his heart and each passing breath. She felt him relax at her touch.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and Owen’s heavy sigh heaved through the both of them. He turned, and held her in his arms – and for the first time that day, Claire felt impossibly small. “For what?” He asked, seemingly genuinely surprised. Claire shrugged sadly. “All of it. I know I shouldn’t have tried to take him on, it was clear he was going to try something like that. I just couldn’t handle the thought of your animals being taken from you…”

The last of Claire’s sentence was drowned by the hum of pleasure floating through her as Owen’s hands slid into her hair and he kissed her deeply, pouring something of an apology into his loving embrace. Claire slipped her arms around his neck, rising slightly on tiptoe even in her heels. They broke apart at the sound of angry snarling behind them; Delta’s snout poking through the bars in their direction.

Their foreheads pressed together; Owen chuckled as he murmured, “Never turn your back to the cage. How could I forget?” Claire bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Seriously, Claire, I’m so damn proud of you. You stood up to that worm all on your own. I’m pretty sure you could handle him better than I could have… Something just snapped. I didn’t want him to lay a damn finger on you. The girls, yeah, I’m pretty pissed about. But the thought of him harming you in any way…” He trailed off, voice hoarse. Claire hushed him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Hey, it’s okay. We handled it,” she murmured.

“No,” Owen sighed, straightening up and holding both her hands in his calloused, paw-like own. “ _You_ handled it. Like I said… My girl’s a badass” he added, smirking. Claire rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop being corny or I’ll see to it that you are _indeed_ fired,” she muttered, unable to escape the laugh bubbling in her throat as she pulled him away by the hand. “Nah,” he said, tugging her back towards him. “You’d miss me too much,” he murmured, before leaning in to kiss her again.

_Claire sent her last e-mail of the day, pushing back from her desk with a sigh. Running a hand through her hair in exasperation, she wondered how to broach the subject with Owen – whether to even attempt it, at all. They’d put the incident behind them, though the raptor unit was on alert for any similar situation._

_She headed out of her office; first bidding goodbye to Zara, and then to Lowery and Vivian. She exchanged pleasantries and conversations with each – recounting memories of Hoskins making her a little more grateful towards her allies at the park. “Enjoy your bike ride!” Lowery nodded enthusiastically, and Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Thanks, Lowery. And, hey – you can have that weekend in August off, after all. I must’ve read the vacation dates wrong last time,” Claire added with a wink, leaving Lowery’s jaw swinging towards the ground._

_Owen was waiting for her as promised, in the parking lot of the Control Room offices. She couldn’t fight the grin seeping across her features as she observed her boyfriend without his knowledge. He was sat astride the motorbike, one foot on the ground for balance, under the forgiving shade of a tree. He was fiddling around with the visor of her helmet, probably checking it’s safety for the hundredth time._

_Dressed in his usual work uniform; shirt, leather vest and pants, his hair slightly ruffled from the windswept journey over, Claire felt her heart swell with affection for him. “Hey,” she murmured when she reached him, arm reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. “Hey!” he said as he looked up at her, holding her at an arm’s length as he surveyed her outfit._

_“God damn. You look gorgeous, Claire,” he murmured, kicking the stand out for his bike and leaning on it, pulling her flush against him. Claire felt herself blush, averting her eyes. “Gee, thanks. It’s just a pair of jeans,” she giggled, and Owen raised his eyebrows suggestively as his hands clasped around her lower back, her sliding her arms round his neck. “I appreciate your practicality,” Owen laughed, and Claire rolled her eyes and shook her head in good humour._

_“There’s something we need to discuss,” Claire murmured, watching Owen’s expression slowly evolve into somewhat puzzled. “Hoskins came by today. He said he’ll be putting in another application for the raptors in a few months time,” She almost whispered, hating the idea of putting a downer on his mood. Owen sighed, and leant to kiss her forehead. “Like Barry says, we’ll cross each bridge when we come to it,” he reasoned. “But I feel a little better knowing I’ve got you by my side,” he added, laughing despite the situation._

_She kissed him, then, deep and meaningful; a way to show her gratitude to all that he had taught her – all he was still teaching her – and his faith in her ability. Claire couldn’t count her lucky stars enough times for the stark realisation of having someone who made her laugh, but also had her back in every situation they faced together. He was giving her a little bit of everything, and she couldn’t be more grateful._

_“Come on,” Owen murmured when they broke apart, reaching behind him for her motorcycle helmet. He placed it gently on her head, ensuring all was secure before they set off. “I’ve heard there’s gonna be a pretty kick-ass sunset tonight, and there’s a certain girl I wanna share it with,” Claire could hear him laughing as she squeezed her arms tight around him lovingly. She was his rock, his soul mate; and he hers. Of that, she was certain.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this! :-)


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